


Expectation

by NekoAisu



Series: Wondrous Tails 2020 [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Allergies, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Married Life, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Original Character(s), Sneezing, Specific Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Wondrous Tails 2020 (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23094862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAisu/pseuds/NekoAisu
Summary: Hindsight may be 20/20, but Zenos is still at a loss on how he managed to get married, gethappy, and not ruin it in a matter of months.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Original Character(s), Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Series: Wondrous Tails 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659850
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	Expectation

**Author's Note:**

> Wondrous Tails fill for Domesticity 🎉  
> Check out the event here: https://finalfantasyxivwritings.tumblr.com/post/611906183806205952/wondrous-tails-of-ffxiv-begins

If someone asked Zenos yae Galvus where he saw himself in five years, it would not be in wedlock with a savage whose bark far exceeds his bite. As it is, he can barely even see how it happened (even with hindsight being 20/20). How it is he went from apathetic conqueror to slightly-less-apathetic and a whole lot less lonely crown prince is less a series of events and more a series of inadvisable  _ trysts,  _ but either way… he never could have anticipated  _ any _ of this. 

Suiren blinks at him, hair mussed and fanning over his pillow, and yawns. His jaw pops a little. The sunlight streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows turns him gold. It is a familiar sight.

It should not be so comforting to wake up beside someone (beside  _ him,  _ especially). 

Zenos was not given the luxury of being raised among the high-backed chairs and overstuffed pillows of his father’s quarters. His childhood nightmares were simply the result of an overactive imagination and too little discipline. He always slept in his own bed. Before that, a crib tended to by a wetnurse. 

He was never given that all-encompassing comfort of someone greeting him in the morning—of the inconvenience that comes with terrible morning breath and a craving for kisses—and having it feels so thoroughly surreal it may as well be a dream itself. It has for every day of the past two years. 

Suiren is… a luxury. Everything about him is dripping with excess even after he abandoned his mistress and mission to be a very thoroughly makeuped pain in Zenos’s ass. Well, he is still a pain. Their back and forth banter is balm to his nerves even if it makes his ego smart all the same. 

Suiren sleeps in silk, bathes with so many phials of product lined up (and organized) that Zenos would believe him to be conducting scientific studies if he did not know better, and demands affection whenever it pleases him. He is frivolous with his kisses and ignorant to audiences. A true savage in the eyes of the council who believe their union a sham and unbecoming. 

It may have been the result of a poorly remembered cultural miscommunication, but Zenos is happy for it. He… did not think he would be. But he is. 

It is not something he ever imagined for himself. 

“Good morning,” Suiren says, yawning again just as he finishes speaking. His ears flick a few times and he blinks his good eye a few times to help it adjust to the light. The other is less an eye and more a wide set of scars from when he repaid his life debt to Yotsuyu. They’ve begun to fade from harsh red-pink to something softer. 

Zenos thinks he looks very,  _ very  _ beautiful. 

(And he has grown able to admit that, though usually when Suiren is wearing Garlean uniform buttoned up to the throat and adorned with a heavy collar not unlike the ones found on Galvus family armor.)

He is beautiful in a kept-animal type of way, wild and ill-fit to the pleasantries and social dances of the Garlean imperial court. He does them well, though. Stepping in time with old players as if all his stumbling and hair tossing and coy little looks are not choreographed is nearly second nature. 

The board may have changed, but he has never been one to stay a novice. 

But like mornings mean no dancing, no dull smiles, and no need for worrisome decency. They can stay in bed for a few more minutes. Zenos can suppress a sneeze until he gets his allergies under control again (and to think he is allergic to his own husband! Miqo’te dander is more powerful than he had thought). 

They have the time to be sappy and handsy and oh so  _ terribly  _ domestic that Zenos will become awkward and fumble his way through attempting gentleness the way he oft does as of late. He reaches out, hands so large in comparison to the slight shape of Suiren’s waist, and pulls him forward. He presses a kiss to the top of his head. 

Suiren makes a sound that seems a cross between indignation and happiness. Zenos can feel his chest vibrate gently with an inaudible purr. 

He then inhales, moving back to give his own morning greeting, and ends up with a few unfortunate strands of fur tickling his nose. His face scrunches up and then, without warning, he  _ sneezes _ . 

Suiren shrieks and smacks him with a pillow. “Disgusting! What a husband I have! Where are your medications?!” 

Zenos rubs at his nose. It burns a bit all the way up into his sinuses. “Bedside drawer,” he says, attempting to avoid another sneeze. 

Suiren clambers over him, opens the drawer, and foists two allergy tablets at him. “I cannot  _ believe  _ you are allergic to me,” he grumbles, tail whipping about in feigned rage and mild frustration. “Why did you not take those before bed?”

Zenos takes the pills in one quick swallow. He sneezes again. 

“Do you need tissues?”

He sniffs. Sneezes again. Grits out, “Yes.”

Suiren hands him a small stack of soft tissue. 

“Thank you.”

They sit in approximate silence until Zenos stops sneezing and Suiren has managed to roll himself into a sheet-burrito to avoid catching a morning chill. 

“Into the shower with you,” Suiren orders, sticking a hand out from his cocoon. “Clean yourself up and it should help with your unfortunate disposition.”

“Like the one that made me marry you?”

His ears pin back and he snaps, “You can’t take it back!” 

Zenos smiles and it’s a little lopsided and a lot affectionate. “I would never.” 

Suiren mumbles something unintelligible and scoots himself further into the blankets to hide his face. 

“Join me in the shower? If we make time, there should be an hour between breakfast and when the training hall opens for recruits,” Zenos asks. He knows the promise of combat and food is both of their weakness. He watches Suiren’s ears pitch toward him before their owner peeks his head out again. 

“No handicap, this time.”

“Would never dream of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> These boys are so dumb and emotionally constipated. I love them. I hope you do too


End file.
